


Dolly Mixtures

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Lost
Genre: Contemplation, F/F, Ficlet, Swimming, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15178235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: Kate watches Shannon by the stream and considers - not only how beautiful she looks, briefly - but even though they're completely different people, they do share fundamental similarities. The islanders don't like her. She doesn't particularly care, herself. But Kate can sympathise. A short femmeslash ficlet.





	Dolly Mixtures

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic. Posted in 2008 to Livejournal.
> 
> Written for the 'bikini' prompt at the 'Lost Femmeslash Comments Battle'

On the surface, she appeared shallow - heartless even to the onlooker. Some may have thought she showed no emotion when she learnt of the _news -_ that she would have discarded the countless memories of Boone as used tissues from the bottom of her handbag. Like one after the next - not a _brother,_ but another _lover_ \- directly out of her little black book.

At his funeral, many had decided that she would not weep. Whilst others had said that her interests lied only in material possessions - expensive designer labels, a flash of candied pink to the fingernails with still not a chip after all of this time, hair styled to perfection despite the harshest terrain, shiny and glossed. A plastic diva, a _Barbie doll,_ in an all too _real_ world.

Their resilience to death was the only common ground between her and Shannon. But where Kate carried her misgivings as heavy baggage wherever she went - new city, different name, travelling across the country to get away - Shannon looked critics straight in the eye and stood firm, saying, "Here I am, guys - get used to it." Taking the flak like a hate-magnet, sweeping the invective under the rug into a small and manageable insult pile. She had to admire her for that.  
  
From being perched on a nearby log, the young lady lifted herself and began to walk around the edge of the clearing. The linen dress she wore blew gently in the wind, the folds falling loosely beside her. Created with the kind of floaty white fabric which had come to represent virtue, it remained surprisingly unstained out here in the wilderness. A cleanliness and purity only mirrored by her actions as she knelt on the moss-ridden rocks, pinning back the hem as she did so. She was grieving in peace, she had told the islanders. But Kate didn't believe that bullshit. And Shannon _knew_ it.

Upon finding Austen by the bushes, Shannon proceeded to pull the delicate clothing right over her head, revealing the the real her - an aesthetically beautiful, bikini-clad _bimbo_. She was what she _was_ , and she felt she needed no excuse. What people _didn't_ understand though, was that she _liked_ being mean. Because naughty girls always got what they wanted. Adjusting her strapless swimwear around her rounded breasts, she held her breath and dived into the shimmering water - to wash all the nicety-niceness from her skin and get back to being a true Rutherford again.  
  
As strong females, they could have been kindred spirits - yet they were poles and lengths apart. Kate enjoyed the blond's showing-off spectacle - but she didn't get her as a person, and probably never would. Kate was a tomboy. And that's why, when she swam in the stream, she wore _nothing_ underneath her top. That'd give Shannon something unexpected to stare at.


End file.
